Elowyn Abernathy
Word salad mixer — Professional rambler — Semi-coherent wordsmith — A little burnt out.
Elowyn Abernathy
Word salad mixer — Professional rambler — Semi-coherent wordsmith — A little burnt out.
Word salad mixer — Professional rambler — Semi-coherent wordsmith — A little burnt out.
Word salad mixer — Professional rambler — Semi-coherent wordsmith — A little burnt out.
In light of damp and quiet place;
Unblooming laurel, bare as space,
Birch and pine now bleak as bone,
Above their leaf a’ silver-tone—
A place where gray is all he known,
In quiet reign of silver sun—
He hacks the sodden log away
Before the silver break of day,
And silent, starving, there he lay,
And whistles: “all is well.”...
"_In the pines, in the pines _
_Where the sun never shines-_
_I slept last night_
_In the pines. "_
These words Connory pondered as he stood beneath the weeping snow, in the shivering place where the boughs were bone, and the moon shone round and full, cascading down the branches and lighting the leaves and silver coppice with a softness sure as spring. It was a cool night. The stars were c...
. She was built like an ox and she had piercing amber eyes that shone like gold. Link was looking up at her from the floor of the grassy meadow and he was wondering how it was possible for a woman to be so tall. She was looking down at him while the sun was beating on her dark face and she thought him awful small. It was her first time leaving Gerudo town and she had never seen a Hylian befor...
Anne’s room was spacious with jade green walls and gray vinyl wood floors. She had one frame with encased arrowheads, but otherwise her walls were barren. The ceiling was slant and there were two windows with beige curtains. The trim on the windows and on the door was old, scuffed, and beaten. Half of it was stained a dark brown and the other half was an Americana brown. Anne had left a crowbar, a...
One eve’ning silent as the sea,
My father sang the song
Of Hiawatha,
To the swelling rhythm
of the Gryllidae;
At a point— I do declare—
So fleeting as the Gryllidae;
When all was quiet
In the poor man’s way;
Then I played on mossy
Sodden logs;
Garb in faded carrhartt;
thin and boney
As the leafless birch;
So I ran shoeless and singing;
Shouting in the graces of the sun
The song of Hiawatha...
It was strange. The words came to me as clearly as if my father said them; and I could hear not only his voice, but also the swelling of the crickets, and the shifting of leaves. It was a bright day. The mountain laurel was in bloom, and its’ sweet smell permeated the air. The birds sang at our old, sodden, dilapidated house in the mountains, where my father sang as well; on that lovely day.
And t...
Beneath the glass, my face a-bloom;
With poppies red, and roses hue;
Vining from chrysanthemums asunder;
Where I lordly grasped the flaming sun,
Where Blooming incarnatum lie,
Spirits dare not tread
where spirits be;
Blood is never shed when tonic sees to
That this will not be so
Ere I lie beneath the glass;
Safe like the butterfly
withheld,
Far and Unreachable as the sun,
Somewhere near the bott...
Chance couldn’t recognize his own wife. Though he spent many years waking up beside her, he couldn’t bring himself to feel he’d known the poor woman laying before him. But there she was; in white sheets, a hospital gown, and with a pale, sickly face that had tubes going in it. Chance felt his stomach churn at her condition.
He remembered a time when she was young, and healthy. Every morning...